Slow Motion
by LieutenantCrunch
Summary: Watson offers an alternative to cocaine. Their relationship following that event. Watson/Sherlock
1. I Want You

**I Want You  
Summary:** Watson offers an alternative to cocaine. Watson/Sherlock  
**Pairing:** Watson/Holmes  
**A/N:** Edited by the always lovely Aerodynamics. Also my first Sherlock Holmes fic.

* * *

"You know I don't approve of that," I said curtly, watching Holmes with a growing intensity.

A tourniquet was tied around his arm, and he was tapping his forefinger upon a vein. Between his teeth he held a syringe. I was pretty sure it was filled with cocaine. No matter how many times I told him of my disapproval, he bluntly ignored me and went ahead and continued his activities. I pressed my tongue to the back of my teeth, crossing my arms over my chest.

Holmes lifted his head the slightest bit, glancing at me, then looked back down. "Indeed I do, Watson," he said bluntly, plucking the syringe from his teeth and positioning it properly. "But it's simply a matter of want."

"Want or addiction?" I questioned, entering his quarters and approaching him after closing the door. I seated myself on a footstool near his chair.

"Want," he answered firmly. "I can stop whenever I desire, my good doctor."

"You are addicted, Holmes. Do not deny it."

Holmes ceased and gazed up at me, his dark eyes focused and his brows furrowed. "That is quite the deduction, Watson," he said, no anger in his voice. Oh, but it was stern nonetheless.

"Which is entirely true," I countered, raising my brows.

"Watson, do you mind?" asked Holmes, the anxiousness coating his voice thickly as he nodded at the door.

Snorting, I reached out and seized the syringe from his fingers. It had yet to penetrate the skin, so it had caused no harm to him. Holmes sneered, pursing his lips and watching me.

"I do mind, Sherlock; as should you," I said, placing the syringe on the table close to me. "Being a doctor, I highly advise against the use of cocaine. As I've told you many times before, you should be aware of my protest against it."

"Of course," he answered. "But does that mean I will accept such protest and terminate my actions? No, it does not."

Holmes reached forward for the syringe, but I swatted his hand away before it was within reach. The detective recoiled his hand back into the security of his own person. He looked at me with an abundance of irritation in his features and gritted his teeth.

"As much as I value your opinion," Holmes hissed, "I would have to ask you to mind your own business, Watson."

Again, his slender, pale hand reached for his syringe, and again, I smacked it. Holmes uttered a small noise of protest, sending me a glare. I just stared right back at him, not allowing myself to give up. He reached for it once more, and this time I seized his wrist in my hand. For a moment, he struggled against my hold on him, sneering at me. Abruptly, he lurched his body forward, reaching with his other hand for the syringe. I caught him and pushed him back to his seat on the couch. He rose to his feet, tugging me with him since my hand still took hold on his wrist.

"Watson," he said in a warning tone. "Release me."

"No."

He lunged for the syringe again, this time sending us toppling over onto the floor. I gasped, grunting and looking up at Holmes, who had fallen on top of my chest. He looked at me and then proceeded to reach for the syringe. I grabbed his arm and held him back, making him strain against me. I pushed him to the floor and held his shoulders down to the floorboards, straddling his hips. He thrashed, hissing and kicking his legs.

"Watson! Release me at once!"

"So you can retrieve the drugs? I think not."

His dark eyes narrowed at me, and he flared his nostrils. It was a meek attempt at intimidation.

"Besides…" I trailed off, making Holmes cease his struggles. "I do believe I have an alternative to cocaine."

Holmes raised his brow in curiosity. "Do tell."

Without hesitation, I forcefully crushed my lips against the detective's. His eyes widened and he began to thrash against me again, groaning. A small gasp escaped into the kiss, allowing the opportunity to arise for me to push my tongue through his teeth. Holmes tensed up, refusing to move an inch. Or more so, he _couldn't_ move. The stale taste of tobacco transferred onto my tongue, which only made me deepen the kiss more, to see if I could suck the taste clean from his mouth. Holmes whimpered, his struggles dying down. Once I felt it was safe, I slipped my hands from his shoulders and into his locks. Immediately, his hands shot up to my lapels, fisting them and pulling me closer. Fair enough.

Slowly, I pulled from his mouth. The usually proper detective was flushed, his lips bruised and eyes wide. I smirked, feeling his chest rise and fall against mine with his breathing.

"Well…" he drawled, clearing his throat. "That is quite the alternative."

He pulled me down, capturing my mouth with his and slipping his arms around my shoulders. I complied, rolling my lips against his. Then I trailed my mouth from him, moving down his jaw and to his neck. Holmes tilted his chin upwards, allowing me to continue my path. Swiftly, my fingers unhooked the buttons of his waistcoat, pushing it aside to work on his shirt. A small hiss slipped through his teeth, his fingers reaching up and gripping my shoulders.

"Mr. Holmes! Mr. Watson!"

We both halted and peered over at the door. A brisk knock on the door was given after a mere moment.

"Are you both alright?" Mrs. Hudson questioned, pounding on the door once more.

"Quite so," I answered, disappointment on my face. Holmes noticed this and simply shrugged his shoulders. I leaned down and sunk my teeth lightly into his jaw, making his hips arch against mine. He hissed at me, glowering once more and pushing against me. I lowered my eyes at him, and he shoved again.

"Off."

I complied, rising to my feet and offering the detective a hand. He swatted at it, pushing himself to his feet. Then he began to readjust his clothing, fixing the buttons.

"I heard a crash," Mrs. Hudson continued, the worry evident on her voice.

"It was nothing," Holmes said. "No need to worry."

"Well…" She seemed unsure of Holmes. "I have brought tea."

Holmes ran a hand through his hair before nodding at me. He then pulled the tourniquet from his arm and tossed it onto the table along with the forgotten syringe. The detective cambered over to the door and opened it, granting Mrs. Hudson entrance. As he did so, I seized the syringe and pocketed it.

"What was that ruckus?" she inquired, glancing at me.

"Nothing," Holmes threw in, pointing to the table. Mrs. Hudson placed the tea on the table where Holmes instructed. I could tell she was apprehensive about it, wanting to understand what was going on. But she simply nodded and walked out of the room briskly.

Holmes peered over at where I was standing. As he did, I simply shrugged my shoulders and started for the door.

"Watson," he called. "I expect my alternative when you return."

I smiled to myself and looked over at him. "Indeed."


	2. Deep Inside Of You

**Deep Inside of You**  
**Summary:** Watson catches Sherlock breaking their promise. Watson/Sherlock  
**Pairing:** Watson/Holmes  
**A/N:** A birthday present for my love, Aerodynamics. :D Not edited this time, so feel free to point out mistakes. Rated M for obvious reasons.

* * *

"Holmes!"

He jumped, dropping the syringe on the floor. I had my arms crossed securely across my torso, glaring down at him as he was positioned upon his floor and was enveloped by his papers and work. For an instant, he looked at me and caught his breath. Then, he blinked up at me before reaching for his syringe.

"What is it, old chap?" he inquired, placing the syringe between his teeth and returning to locating a vein in his arm.

"What in the world are you doing?" I demanded.

He heaved a sigh. "What does it look like?"

"I believed we had an agreement," I posed.

Holmes peered up at me, watching and waiting. Almost as if a thought was crossing his mind. As if he had forgotten. Finally, he spoke. "I am aware of that."

It took all in me not to huff and stamp my foot like an adolescent who didn't have his way. I merely looked down on him, arms still crossed over my chest.

"And didn't our agreement say that there was to be none of _that_?" I asked calmly, pointing at the syringe and straining emphasis on the word 'that'.

Holmes gave yet another sigh and lowered the syringe. "Yes, but…"

I didn't let him finish. Abruptly, I seized the lapels of his shirt and hoisted him up, pressing my mouth against his in a sloppy kiss. He made a noise of opposition at my abrasive actions, pushing against my torso. My arms enclosed his body, pulling his diminutive frame against mine. If I had held him any tighter, I swore he would have broken under me. I pulled from his mouth, watching him. On his face was a look of confusion; his lips parted the slightest bit. Then he huffed and pushed against me.

"I do not believe that your actions were ideal for this moment of time," he informed me, pushing still.

"I beg to differ," I disputed, narrowing my eyes at him. "_Your_ actions were merely a plan devised to gain attention, was it not?"

Holmes sneered at me. "Are you accusing me of…?"

"I am."

Angrily I slid my hand down and nudged his legs apart, gripping his groin. He gasped softly, rocking his hips away from my touch and glowered at me.

"We cannot do this at this time!" he whispered fiercely. "Mrs. Hudson…"

"Is out on the town," I filled in. "I told her to take the afternoon off."

Holmes was about to protest, so I covered his mouth with my own to silence him. I tensed up, prepared for the barrage of attacks to get me to cease my actions, but he remained still. Then, I felt his slender hands enfold me, clutching the back of my shirt. Swiftly, I grabbed his hips and lifted him up, backing him into the nearby wall with a thud. He gasped, leaning his head on the wall and pushing against me, his feet barely grazing the floorboards.

"Watson, please," he said. "Not now."

"I will not wait," I told him with a raise of my brow.

I slipped the braces from my shoulders so they hung lifelessly at my legs before going to work on Holmes' waistcoat. My lips sank into his neck as I did so, pushing the garment from his torso. A strangled gasp left through his lips, making him groan and knock his hips against mine.

"Watson, _please_," he hissed harshly.

I continued my task, dropping his waistcoat to the ground then ripping his shirt open. A button or two came off, but I did not care. I was finally able to reach the pale skin of his torso that I so desired. Bending down in the slightest bit, I ground him into the wall and traced my hand over the few hairs that adorned his chest, watching his face as I did so. Slowly, my hand traced downwards until my fingertips bore down on the hem of his trousers.

"What on earth are you doing?" he asked quickly, weaving a hand into my locks and tugging ever-so-slightly. Oh, but it was enough to nearly drive me to the brink of insanity.

"Merely giving you the attention you were begging for."

Quickly I wrenched the button of his trousers free before pulling them down to his feet. I noticed his excitement that he had held beneath the clothing, his thin undergarments doing nothing to withhold that sensation. My knee slipped between his thighs and pressed against his groin. I passionately kissed him, nearly thrusting my tongue down his throat. He moaned boisterously, his hands clutching my hips and pulling me closer. Our groins stroked together, creating such superb friction that made my head spin.

I pulled from his lips, shoving a hand down his undergarments to stroke him. Holmes gasped and bucked his hips into my hand, encouraging me further more. His slender fingers worked the buttons upon my shirt, freeing it from my own torso. I shrugged my shoulders, allowing it to pool at my feet before continuing my ministrations. Holmes whined, pushing at my trousers. Grinning, I complied, removing my hand from his undergarments to work on my trousers. The detective's impatience seemed to be escalating, since his hands knocked mine aside to rid myself of my trousers. Finally the button was freed, and they were pushed to the floor along with my undergarments. Swiftly, I grabbed the hem of his undergarments and pushed them to the floor, fully exposing him.

"Watson…" Holmes breathed, a look of pure bliss crossing his facial features.

My hands held onto his meager frame as I ground my hips into his, growling approvingly at the small noises he was uttering with a shaky breath. My hand returned to his member, gripping it and giving a tug that made Holmes express a noise commending at my engagements. The detective groaned, bucking into my hand, causing me to stroke him faster. I twirled the pad of my thumb on the head of his member, feeling the leak of pre-cum on my digit. Holmes' mouth was open in a silent moan, making me smirk. He pulled me down close to him, his tongue darting out to lick the shell of my ear, generating a moan from the back of my throat.

"Enough," he breathed against my ear before giving it a bite which sent chills down my spine.

"Of course."

I spun Holmes so he was braced against the wall, tracing my hand down his sleek back, over his backside before pressing a digit against his entrance. Holmes instantaneously gave a deafening sound of approval, urging against my finger, persuading me further. Complying, I pressed my finger thoroughly into him, wriggling my finger inside him. Another was adjoined, and a third. Once I was convinced he was ready, I retracted my fingers and positioned myself at his entrance, sliding in with one punctual movement. Holmes' eyes closed, his forehead pressing against the wall, and a groan coming from his lips. I delayed with infinite patience, waiting until he told me he was disposed. The detective gave a brisk nod and pushed his hips against mine. Pleasantly, I pressed my lips against the smooth skin of his back before I rocked my hips, pushing in and out of him. With each stroke, I bruised my hips against his vigorously, groaning as I did so, relishing in the sweet feel of Holmes. The detective struggled to keep up, his moans and whimpers growing more frequent. His hand slid down the wall, going for his neglected member. I gave a light swat at his hand, gripping him and stroking him in time with my thrusts.

Holmes came first, moaning, "_John_," quietly as he did so. My thumb circled the head of his member, drawing out his orgasm, still pounding my hips into his, moaning pleasantly from the back of my throat. I shortly came, sinking my teeth into Holmes' shoulder.

Holmes' legs shivered violently, so I enveloped him in my hold, keeping him up as I pulled out of him.

"Good lord, Watson," he breathed, turning around so our torsos were heaving against one another in a slow rhythm.

He shot me a curious look, making me cock my eyebrow at him. "Why are you giving me that look?"

"I must inquire where… _this _came from." He tilted his head to peer up at me.

"Anger," I said quickly. Then I gave a mere shrug.

Holmes smirked. "Well, maybe I should make you mad more often."

I let out an honest laugh, leaning down and kissing the detective forcefully to cease his speaking. Not now.


End file.
